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Is Poetry a Dead Art? (Part 4) |
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#51 |
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I had a good night's sleep, but it was in the armchair and I left the lamps on again
That last cider in the pub was fatal ![]() Goodnight, sleep tight, Don't let the mouses bite. If they bite, squeeze them tight And you'll give them An awful fright. I think that's how it went.
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#52 |
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Quote:
Goodnight, sleep tight,
Don't let the mouses bite. My cousin does a similar thing, she always says sheeps I've just popped in to explain the lack of new material from me. I'm deep into the Avebury suite and I'm 'writing furiously' to borrow Morrissey's phrase. The book won't have as many poems as The Designer, but beautiful colour photographs will compensate for that. The centre-piece of the whole project is an epic about the destruction of Avebury. Although this was carried out over centuries, as an event in British history I place it in the same league as the Reformation, the Battle of Waterloo and the Blitz. It's been a rare pleasure writing on one topic and a topic so completely fascinating (for me anyway). Because of the time and research it's taking I'm currently unable to complete the other new poetry I have ideas for. So from tomorrow I'll be posting more oldies, some of which may seem new - I've forgotten many of the 900 in the file myself
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#53 |
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Quote:
I've just popped in to explain the lack of new material from me. I'm deep into the Avebury suite and I'm 'writing furiously' to borrow Morrissey's phrase. The book won't have as many poems as The Designer, but beautiful colour photographs will compensate for that. The centre-piece of the whole project is an epic about the destruction of Avebury. So from tomorrow I'll be posting more oldies, some of which may seem new - I've forgotten many of the 900 in the file myself
![]() ![]() Wow! 900 is quite a catalogue - we can just treat them all as new. After all poetry is meant to be read again and again. |
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#54 |
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I'm sure I'm not the only one who is looking forward to the new volume.
![]() You're right about poetry, I tend to re-read it a lot myself too, the same way I listen to certain albums over and again.
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#55 |
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Flying
If I had but the power To fly upon the wing, I'd choose to glide each hour Away from everything. Above a lonely ocean I'd smoothly soar and rise Or plummet in slow motion Beneath a bridge of sighs. I’d float over a spire, Gaze down on distant grass, Then circle even higher Where clouds of silence pass. Allowing flight to show me What only birds can know, With all the world below me My joy would overflow. © |
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#56 |
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#57 |
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Flying
© ![]() 'Morning Troy.
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#58 |
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Robin The Rich
It was a time of derring-do if Robin Hood you do What Robin Hood will do. Robbing rich, give to The poor. Bring down that Sheriff that’s for sure. Sherwood Forest was his manor the hood of them Days where he would plan the latest heist beyond The Law but in the name of Christ. Gang chaplain Friar Tuck dignified the outlaws, this merry bunch Whilst there’s hock to sustain plus meats to munch Lived lustily - true to his habit - always out to lunch. Rob gave up some, but not too much, made Marian Keep in regular touch, they exchanged love’s tokens And such around the bush.. mm perhaps an analogy One shouldn’t push. Things more innocent then like Popes, straight as their arrows, may God be praised! |
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#59 |
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I 'ad a good night
But try as I might There is no escaping I now feel like shite
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#60 |
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Wonderful stuff Musty.
![]() Quote:
Yes, very memorable that one Musty. I suppose that's why people use gliders and do hang gliding, although it's much more limited than the kind you mean.
![]() I'm too scared to fly in planes Biz, once was enough and that was only to Jersey ![]() Quote:
Robin The Rich
I love the made Marian pun and the wordplay in this, it's funny all the way through
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#61 |
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Thanks Musty for responses and Biz for reading the US "Indians" one. Frank
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#62 |
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Quote:
Robin The Rich
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#63 |
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Thanks Musty for responses and Biz for reading the US "Indians" one. Frank
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#64 |
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Credit To John Aubrey
The first modern person to ring The changes where lost beliefs cling, As Avebury beckoned John took Charles the second To guide him around the great ring. © |
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#65 |
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A sneak preview of the shortest piece in the Avebury suite
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#66 |
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Brilliance
You always used glitter for every card you made. It seemed to soothe you. I’d watch as you’d sit at the kitchen table, day after day, your whole world within your reach – glue card scissors paper – and you, spread amongst your mess, tongue fixed in the corner of your slack mouth, eyes slowly moving with your thoughts, trailing dots and loops of glue onto card. Then, clasping handfuls of glitter, their silver specks trickling through your brittle porcelain fingers, your shattered brilliance seeping from your palm, you’d scatter light. And then the magic as you shook all the loose bits free over table and floor, to leave invisible smudges transformed to fragile reflections of light – and your precious work offered up with a smile set deep in your eyes. |
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#67 |
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Quote:
Brilliance
You always used glitter for every card you made.
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#68 |
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Quote:
Credit To John Aubrey
© ![]() Quote:
Brilliance
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#69 |
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Not quite relevant, but has anyone else noticed that Poetry Please on Radio 4 has been more like Prose Please for about a year? Also, there's plenty of plugging, especially from McGough.
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#70 |
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Quote:
Brilliance
You always used glitter for every card you made. It seemed to soothe you. I’d watch as you’d sit at the kitchen table, day after day, your whole world within your reach – glue card scissors paper – and you, spread amongst your mess, tongue fixed in the corner of your slack mouth, eyes slowly moving with your thoughts, trailing dots and loops of glue onto card. Then, clasping handfuls of glitter, their silver specks trickling through your brittle porcelain fingers, your shattered brilliance seeping from your palm, you’d scatter light. And then the magic as you shook all the loose bits free over table and floor, to leave invisible smudges transformed to fragile reflections of light – and your precious work offered up with a smile set deep in your eyes. |
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#71 |
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Musty's comment made me look again at this Scottie, and question my thought that it was about frail and much loved little girl who had possibly died.
The limerick above is going to be changed and there's a good page describing John Aubrey on Wikipedia ![]() Quote:
Not quite relevant, but has anyone else noticed that Poetry Please on Radio 4 has been more like Prose Please for about a year?
I like some of Roger McGough's material but not enough to buy one of his books. |
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#72 |
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Isn't it funny how some poems get interpreted differently Biz?
The limerick above is going to be changed and there's a good page describing John Aubrey on Wikipedia ![]() I don't listen to it Korky, though I seem to recall Biz saying the same thing once. Modern poetry largely shuns the rhyme, so I'm quite out of step I like some of Roger McGough's material but not enough to buy one of his books.Hi Flower ![]() x
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#73 |
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Great to see some old fms back in as well as some new ones to this thread, like Vosne even.
![]() Absence. ('Blue Sci'?) I dream I'm fully aware, but I'm sat in my memory chair. On my way to a far off place in the corner of deepest space. My ship computes my needs. The distances and speeds required to get me - where? I really couldn't care. They all look the same to me. Horrifically military. I'll stop that in a day. Or I'm not worth my pay. I won't be going down. Too much G in ground. I'll stay above and high on questions as: "To why?" My landing craft are made of impenetrable grade quantum chromed carbon. For killers there's no pardon. Disgusts me, so it does. It used to be a buzz to brush away the blinds and change a trillion minds. Maybe this will be my last. This body's ageing fast. Yeah - like me turn down a trip? No one else can work my ship. At last I'm nearly there. Given time to prepare - I'll be back before the ends. Back with you, my friends. |
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#74 |
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Hi mustard
x![]() Quote:
Absence. ('Blue Sci'?)
On my way to a far off place in the corner of deepest space. I didn't get the blue-sci term but I could see the space traveller in the poem - there's a hint that he's a killer who's serving a sentence on a rocket. Either way it was great to visit the depths of space again
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#75 |
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Ta Musty.
"Blue Sci" Sad Sci-Fi? and sounds like 'blue sky' which always featured in the long dreams of pre-light travellers...
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That last cider in the pub was fatal 

My cousin does a similar thing, she always says sheeps 
I didn't get the blue-sci term but I could see the space traveller in the poem - there's a hint that he's a killer who's serving a sentence on a rocket. Either way it was great to visit the depths of space again